Fallen Embers
by Pale Griffon
Summary: The time is 9:30 Dragon Age. In the midst of the somber reaches of the Brecilian forest, a young elven woman finds herself becoming interwoven in the threads of a destiny, greater than anything she could ever possibly have known. Whether she wants to be or not. A Blight is coming, and life as she knows it is in utter peril. She must fight to save the world, or fall.
1. Prologue

_"The Chantry teaches us that it is the hubris of men which brought the darkspawn into our world. The mages had sought to usurp Heaven. But instead, they destroyed it. They were cast out, twisted and cursed by their own corruption. They returned as monsters, the first of the became a blight upon the lands, unstoppable and relentless. The dwarven kingdoms were the first to fall. And from the deep roads, the darkspawn drove at us again and again, until finally we neared annihilation... until the Grey Wardens came. Men and women from every race, warriors and mages, barbarians and kings, the Grey Wardens sacrificed everything to stem the tide of darkness, and prevailed. It has been four centuries since that victory, and we have kept our vigil. We have watched and waited for the darkspawn to return. But those, who once called us heroes, have forgotten. We are few now, and our warnings have been ignored for too long. It may even be too late, for I have seen with my own eyes what lies upon the horizon. Maker help us all."_

-Warden Commander Duncan

This world; 'tis a _strange_ world.

Full of darkness, full of chaos. Bathed in blood that has been shed time and again, birthing shadows of corruption; like a raging wildfire, the plague spreads. The icy breath of Death upon one's neck is not unfamiliar here. History stands to tell moments that have come to pass when there was no restitution to be had. However, even in the midst of such gloom, such doubt... there is yet hope to be salvaged. _There is still hope._ The souls of our peoples have endured. Our collective will rises from the ashes reborn when all seemed lost. Over and over, we stand against the relentless gauntlet that **is** time. I know not why I have been chosen, I know not yet my purpose. What I **do** know, is that there is a darkness rising, and with it Hell will soon follow. I have seen it; it lurks within the shadows of my dreams. It beckons sweetly in the dead of silence; a siren's song that lures me to the very thing that has claimed so much of me already. Evil dwells; and though I find myself being swallowed within the swell of the gathering storm, _**never** have I felt more **alive**._


	2. Deep in the Forest

Winds swept through the somber depths of the Brecilian Forest. Trees towered overhead with emerald canopies, shimmering in the otherwise bleak daylight. Branches creaked softly, swaying to a tune only the forests could know. Yet, the atmosphere was anything but quiet. The tranquility was interrupted by sudden crashes of clumsy feet. Twigs snapped, and the earth was pummeled with panicked steps. The wind sang softly with the whimpers and pants of frightened souls. Three humans dashed through the foliage, fighting the low-hanging branches that snagged at them.

"Come on!" Cried one, their round face pale with fright, "Hurry!" Two more stumbled behind him, gasping hoarsely, clutching at the stitches in their chests. On they sprinted, tripping and bumping, fighting to escape a foe unseen. So consumed by fear they were, that they failed to see a shadow slip past.

In a whisper of movement, a figure appeared suddenly before them with a bow drawn, and an arrow pointed between the first man's eyes. He tripped, sliding on the earth. The others came skittering to a halt, breathless and surprised. Before them stood a lone elf, whose grey eyes were narrowed with barely concealed contempt.

"It's-It's a Dalish!" Exclaimed the man who had tripped, pointing in disbelief.

"And you three are somewhere you shouldn't be." Responded he, his nose crinkling slightly in disgust at them. He could smell them. It was the reek of fear. Worse, it was the stench of... **humans**.

"Let us pass elf!" Growled a burly human, who clenched his fists. "You've no right to stop us!" The elf's fingers tightened, the bowstring creaking menacingly in response.

"No?" The elf quipped, cocking an eyebrow, "We'll see about that, won't we?" As he spoke, another shadow passed with barely a breath of wind beyond the trio of men. A second, much taller figure appeared beside the elven man. They, too, wielded a bow, taught with anticipation. An arrow was nocked, pointing to where the men stood, shuddering and huddled together.

The first elf's lip curled at their cowardice, he glanced to his right, where his companion stood, "You're just in time."


	3. Shemlens

"You're just in time. I found these..." the elf paused, as if groping with his own revulsion "... **humans** lurking in the bushes. Bandits, no doubt."

"W-We aren't bandits; I swear!" Declared the burly human, his voice cracking with fear. The others stood behind him, fearfully glancing between the two elvhen folk. "Please don't hurt us!"

Both of the Dalish began circling the humans, who huddled closely together. Drenched in sweat and covered in filth, the two exchanged a shared look of distaste. They kept their bow strings drawn. "You shemlen are pathetic." The first spat arrogantly, glaring from one man to the next as he stepped cautiously by, the second elf following at a distance. "It's hard to believe you ever drove us from our homeland."

"We've never done nothing to you, Dalish!" The third human, a mousy looking man with dark hair piped up, "We didn't even know this forest was yours!"

"This forest isn't _ours_, fool." The lead elf scoffed as they both gave pause. "You've stumbled too close to our camp." His eyes narrowed once more. "You shems are like vermin-we can't trust you not to make mischief." He then glanced to his right, to his companion who had been silent all the while. "What do you say lethallin?" He asked them, "What should we do with them?"

At his words, the humans trembled, their faces uncertain. They glanced quickly at the other elf, who stood farther back. Despite the distance, it did little to betray their intimidating appearance. The she-elf stood, taller than the first. Fair of skin was she; her pale, brilliant almond eyes shimmered with mistrust, burning with a fire that could have smite them where they stood. She blinked slowly.

"We should find out what these lowlanders are doing here." Her voice was heavy with accent, "Killing them will only bring trouble." The first's face twisted slightly in a grimace. It was obvious he disagreed.

"Does it matter?" He snapped. The mousy man spoke this time, his voice tremulous.

"L-Look," he stammered, "we didn't come here to be trouble. We just found a cave." The others nodded in frantic approval. Both Dalish wore expressions of skepticism.

"Yes! A cave!" The burly man agreed hastily, "With ruins like I've never seen! We thought there might be uh-"

"Treasure?" The first elf cut across, hardly believing the lies these shemlens were spouting, "So you're more akin to thieves than actual bandits." He rolled his eyes.

The second elf scrutinized them, "If you've been there, you should have treasure to prove it." Said she.

The burly man stepped forward, then: "I... I have proof!" Both elves tensed as he reached into his pocket. "Here... we found this just inside the entrance." He revealed in his hand a curiously carved stone. The first elf's eyes widened at the sight of it.

"That stone has carvings..." He began, his eyebrows furrowing, "... is that elvish?" He asked, his tone reflecting incredulity as he recognized some of those curious symbols, "**Written** elvish?"

"There's more in the ruins!" The man replied, "We didn't get very far in, though..." He looked up to see the she-elf incline her chin at him inquisitively.

"Why not?" All three humans suddenly paled, they looked between each other, terrified at the very thought.

"There was a demon!" Began the burly man, "It was huge; with black eyes! Thank the Maker we were able to out-run it!" The lead elf scoffed once more.

"A _demon_? Where is this cave?" He asked in a lazy drawl.

The burly man pointed, "Just off to the west, I think." He explained, "There's a cave in the rock face, and a huge hole just inside." It was obvious that the lead elf was torn, uncertain whether they were honest, or simply bluffing. Breathing impatiently through his nose, he peered over his shoulder.

"Well?" He asked the she-elf; she tilted her head to show that she was listening. Her eyes remained sharply fiaxted towards the men. A soft sigh of wind puffed their hair. The leaves rustled softly. He loosened his grip on the bow ever so slightly. "Do you trust them? Shall we let them go?" She remained tense, still as stone. The humans watched warily, with quickening, shallow breaths. Like frightened bunnies, they were. Pathetic. Their eyes flitted from the arrows nocked to the stony faced she-elf. Moment after drawn out moment there was only a tense silence.

Quite suddenly then, she lowered her bow, the soft hiss of the arrow sliding against the belly dissolved the silence, and the suspension that had lingered with it. She turned to her companion, rolling her shoulders back. It made her look even taller. "You have frightened them enough, they'll not bother us." At her last words, she shot them a piercing look. They drew back a few steps, swallowing nervously.

Her companion hesitated, eyebrows raised. He sighed irritably; looking displeased, "Very well, run along then, shems." It was as if their very feet had caught fire. They all

started at once.

"Y-Yes! We will!" They cried, bowing their heads ridiculously as they stepped backwards, "Th-Thank you. Thank you!" They scrambled frantically up the slope, and disappeared once more into the depths of the forest. Only their reckless blunderings could be heard, until at last those noises, too, faded.


End file.
